


Cocoa and Macarons

by FlushedDeck



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1950's Time Period, Black America, F/M, Female France, Minor Canonical Character(s), Race Changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 23:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3228269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlushedDeck/pseuds/FlushedDeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the late 1950's racial equality isn't something on most people's minds quite yet. Francine sees nothing wrong with Alfred. He's a huge dork who likes space and her macarons. He is cocoa skin and a bright smile. They are all their own in their little town in Virginia. No matter who or what stands in their way they'll dance their way into the stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cocoa and Macarons

            Francine let out a yawn as she listened to the older boy. Arthur, his name was Arthur. He was captain of the soccer team. Shorter compared to some of the other jocks but smart and strong. She let out a quiet laugh at his joke -even if it really wasn’t all that funny- before giving him a kiss on the cheek.

            That is what everyone expected, right? They kept walking as chattering filled the hallways.

            She stopped once she saw the large jock like figure colored a beautiful chocolate brown brush past her. He was smiling and talking with a burly Russian. _Misfits_ , her mind supplied. Arthur scuffed.

            “A Negro bundie, how gross,” he growled out. Francine nodded slowly her long hair bobbing a bit. He had looked pretty cute.

            Stupid soccer player.

* * *

 

            Francine, like many people in the community, had grown up with extremely rich parents. She had lived in Paris for the first half of her life before her parents had her sent to live in their estate in Virginia. In the United States, at the age of eight, without knowing how to speak a nick of English.

            The head of the house had been black. She had been a nice lady hailing from Louisiana. She could speak French and English. She taught Francine how to speak English too.

            Francine never understood why people would shy away when they went out during the summer to get ice cream. They seemed to like Francine perfectly fine. A blonde angel curled hair doll with baby blue eyes was sure to catch people’s attention.

            But she heard it whispered. _Negro._

            It was uttered as if Miss Natalie was some evil being. Francine knew she wasn’t, they went to church every Sunday. That was proof.

            Then she grew up and yes, eventually did understand. _Negro_. Someone who was not white, but black.

            She didn’t like that word.

* * *

 

            The next time she saw him, they were both alone. She had gone to the library to find a book for a project and he had been there curled up reading a large book. When she got closer it looked as if it were on space. The stars and cosmos so far out of both of their reaches.

            “Hey, peepers. _Comment vas-tu?_ ”

            His head snapped up before he did a double take cheeks darkening in color. “And what’s a cute dolly like you talkin’ with me for?” he asked. Francine smiled. His voice was a bit higher than she would have thought it to be.

            “I couldn’t help but notice the crack in your glasses _pote,_ ” was all she commented pointing at the teens glasses.

            “If you’re tryin’ to insult my glasses in French it ain’t gonna work doll face. I don’t speak a lick of it,” he replied back setting the book down.

            “ _Non,_ I called you ‘buddy’, like a friend?”

            “Buddy huh? You’d want to call me your friend?”

            She smiled a bit before nodding. “ _Oui, tu es mon ami.”_

            “I’m gonna take a guess and say that meant totally, like crazy; like wow.”

            She let out a laugh as he made a few jesters with his hands. Francine sat down a moment later, legs folding underneath her. She smiled in his direction giving his shoulder a fond pat.

            “Say, what’s your name? Unless you want me to call you doll face all the time,” he asked with the quirk of his brow.

            “Francine. Francine Bonnefoy.”

            He smiled bright in her direction. “Alfred. Alfred F. Jones.”

* * *

 

            She saw him again during lunch. He was sitting outside under the shade of a tree all alone. The Russian boy, Ivan was his name, was not there that day. She looked around spotting Arthur and his friends sitting at one of the tables in the canteen chatting loudly.

            She nodded to herself picking up the bagged lunch in one hand and walking over to Alfred with a smile. She sat down next to him smoothing out the front of her skirt. “ _Bonjour Alfred_.”

            He looked up from the sandwich he was eating before smiling. “Hey Francine. Fancy seein’ you here.”

            She opened up her lunch grabbing out macarons, a bottle of Pepsi-cola, and small bite sized sandwiches. Alfred let out a whistle, only teasing, as he took a bite out of his apple. She simply rolled her eyes. They ate in relative silence as both finished off their food.

            Francine eyed her macrons before nodding in agreement with herself. She had six of them, she most certainly didn’t need that many. “Alfred,” she spoke to get the boy’s attention. He looked over at her with a lazy smile.

            “Yeah, doll face?”

            “Can I see your hand? _S'il vous plaît?_ ”

            He held his hand out palm down. She gently flipped it over, her fingers looking so pale and delicate against his own dark calloused ones. She placed three of the sweet treats into his hand before patting his fingers gently closed around them.

            “I can’t take these Francine, they’re yours ya’ know,” he tried to give them back but she just flicked his arm a few times.

            “I am already rather full. I want you to have them, no reason to rattle your cage boy.”

            He nodded before popping one into his mouth a moment later. A smile made its way onto his lips. “Pretty sweet.”

            She smiled back.

* * *

 

            She was with Arthur and some of his other friends, and their girls. She wasn’t his girl, no way in hell. She saw Alfred out of the corner of her eye. He was walking holding a bunch of books in his arms. More books about space, or biology, or chemistry. The boy loved science, ate it for breakfast.

            “Hey, if it isn’t the local Negro nosebleed!” one of them called out as he lit a cigarette. It was Gilbert. The other’s laughed but Francine stayed silent. Arthur grinned sliding off of the hood of his car.

            “Come on big guy, to skinny to hang out with us or we just too radioactive? You seem to like the Reds just fine though don’t you?” Arthur let out a laugh standing in front of the taller teen. “What happens to be the matter? Unable to look me in the eye you dirt skin?” The books were knocked out of Alfred’s hands.

            Francine let out a heavy huff pushing off of the car hood. Enough was enough. She stomped over to Arthur anger in her eyes. He looked over to her with a charming smile. “Don’t you worry, you may not be able to understand English well but he is used to it by now.”

            “ _Baiseur stupide_.” Francine soon walked over to Alfred with apologetic eyes. She helped him pick up his books patting him on the shoulder. He nodded in thanks before scurrying off, not wanting to draw any more attention.

            Arthur looked at her with a frown. “Francine there was no reason for you to-”

            “You are a pig. You should treat others better than you do now, Kirkland. If you could excuse me,” she brushed past him ignoring his stunned face.

            Boy, it felt good to not just sit by anymore.

* * *

 

            She met Ivan Braginsky the next week. He was a big Russian sweet heart who had major trouble with speaking English. His older sister had taken him and his younger sister out of Soviet Russia and moved all the way over to the United States. The same older sister made him a scarf he always seems to wear.

            He liked sunflowers and space just as much as Alfred did. He was extremely protective of his friend and so was extremely wary of Francine when they met. But she smiled and gave him a hug while standing on her tip toes. It was like being engulfed by a huge bear when he hugged back. They all sat under the large shaded tree sharing her macarons and smiling.

            She felt like she belonged.

* * *

 

            One weekend she invited Alfred and Ivan out to go with her into town. Ivan had to watch his younger sibling so it was just Alfred and her. She had driven up to his door honking the horn out front. A little girl had come bounding out; her long brown hair tied up in pigtails a stuffed polar bear under one arm making her skin look so much darker.

            Alfred had run out after her with a look of worry on his face. “Madeline, get over here silly!”

            The little girl laughed before running back over to her older brother. He lifted her up before carrying her back inside. He came running out a second later waving goodbye to the other in the window before sliding next to the blonde with a smile.

            “Sorry ‘bout that, Maddie always likes to see my new friends.”

            “It’s no trouble. She is _très mignon, oui?_ ”

            Alfred chuckled rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks doll. Where’re we going anyways?”

            “For a spin around the block,” she smiled before putting on a pair of sunglasses and pulling forward speeding down the street. Alfred grinned and laughed at her driving holding onto the dashboard. He soon sat back against the seat arm resting on the rest between the two. Francine reached down and gave his hand a squeeze with her own.

            He squeezed back. Their hands stayed connected for the whole ride.

* * *

 

            She encouraged him to come out of the sliding booth with a small laugh. Alfred shuffled out nervously a second later wearing the leather lettermen’s jacket. It suited him very well, or at least she thought so. The light grey of the body along with the dull purple and white accents brought out his smile. Brought out Alfred.

            “You should get it,” she commented straightening out the front of the slightly oversized jacket. “It suits you nicely.”

            “It’s too much for me to spend Francine. It’s nice but I could never buy it,” he sighed before beginning to take it off.

            “Nonsense. I’ll buy it for you, no sweat,” she placed it into his arms. “I saw something I want to grab. Wait for me at the counter, okay peepers?”

            He nodded a bit sheepishly walking to the front of the cramped shop. She quickly made her way over to the pins she saw earlier spying the sunflower one. She smiled before grabbing it for Ivan. Francine walked up front soon after only to find Alfred talking with the owner nervously.

           “I know very well you aren’t going to by anything Jones, so get out of my store front. No one is going to want to come in here with you standing here doing nothing.”

            She frowned striding up to the clerk laying the pin down gently. “Alfie, the jacket please?” she asked in a sweet tone batting her eyelashes in the teens direction. The clerk spluttered as she set it down taking out her wallet. “He’s with me.”

            She smiled knowing what would happen if he stepped out of line again. Her parents were filthy rich. He knew who she was, a Bonnefoy, and just how influential she was.

            “Of course Miss Francine,” was all he replied making sure she paid before putting the pin in a small paper bag. She handed the jacket off to Alfred as they left the shop smiling in triumph.

            “Thanks doll,” he murmured out hugging the jacket close.

            “Of course. Now, we have a whole shopping trip for you to go on. Plus I think we both need a wig chop, yeah?” she looked over at the other with a smile putting her hands on her hips.

            “Alrighty, whatever you say,” was all he managed to get out before she dragged him towards the next place. He looked down at their hands before interlacing his fingers with hers. They were small and pale with blue painted nails.

            Boy was he lucky.

* * *

 

            Francine and Alfred giggled back and forth as they walked into the Malt shop with his hand wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was still curly as ever, now fluffed up and ending just below her ears with his now slicked back a bit curling slightly on one side with his jacket thrown over his shoulder.

            They walked over to a booth waving to one of the waitresses before sitting down.

            They soon had chocolate shakes in front of them to go along with their conversation about their childhood. Alfred spoke of his mother, Virginia summers on an uncle’s farm, and of an older cousin named Matthew who had died during World War II. Francine talked about growing up in France, Miss Natalie back at home, and of a younger half sibling who lived in Seychelles.

            Their giggling and quick sips of sugary drink were soon interrupted by the door opening with the bell jingling happily. Arthur soon walked in with Roderick, Gilbert, Vash, and Elise on his arm. Francine frowned looking at them over the top of Alfred’s head.

            She motioned for the waitress to tell them the price they’d have to pay taking one last sip of her drink. The day was not in her favor at the moment, she knew that the second her eyes met Arthur’s. He grinned whispering something into Gilbert’s ear.

            The albino looked over at the two with a disgusted look on his face. He had been her friend, so she had thought. The second she helped Alfred with his books, no, the second she sat with him at the library her fate was sealed.

            “Alfred we need to go,” she whispered out putting money on the table instead grabbing the boy by the arm. He looked behind him to see the other’s before clenching his fists and nodding in agreement with the blonde.

            It was already too late.

            “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

            Francine felt like growling at the Brit’s obnoxious tone of voice. Alfred grabbed onto her hand cradling it gently in his while facing the green eyed man.

            “Is someone going on a date with the little speck of dirt? One that seems to be dressed far more suited for someone whose mother doesn’t make ends meat my selling her own body,” he drawled on, grinning at the other’s face.

            Alfred’s eyes darkened in anger at the other’s words. “You are crossing a line here Kirkland. I’d suggest you split,” was all he told the other, tone dark.

            “I don’t listen to specks of dirt, nosebleed.”

            Francine stepped forward in an instant punching Arthur clear across his nose. “ _Avez-vous embrassez votre mère avec cette bouche_?!”

            She grabbed onto Alfred’s hand sending a look over to the other’s that promised death. Then grabbed the boy’s face, bent him over, and kissed him. He froze cheeks, ears, and neck going ablaze. Francine flipped the gaping seniors off with one hand while dragging Alfred out of the shop with another.

            The only thing Alfred was able to think was _Doll packs a mean punch._

* * *

 

            Alfred had stared in awe at Francine’s parent’s estate house. It was huge. He saw the different staff scurrying around from outside. Soon a woman with her hair tied back came jogging out over to the two.

            “Francine, there you are. We were getting worried. It’s an hour after you said you’d be home. Your hair, you got your hair cut. And who is this?” the woman kept speaking rapidly checking them both over. His head made the connection soon afterwards.

            It was Miss Natalie.

            Her accent was tinged with the drawl that was heard down south along with wide hips and deep brown eyes. She had helped raised Francine. She was the reason they -Alfred and Francine- were friends in the first place.

            “This is Alfred, he’ll be catching some z’s here tonight,” she told the older woman with a smile.

            “Nice to meet you dear boy. And I suppose that is perfectly fine but Francine, you’ll need to wear a night gown.”

            The blonde’s cheeks flushed a slight pink as she cleared her throat, “I am aware of that.”

            Alfred just laughed before his breath got caught in his throat. Francine normally slept naked.

            _Oh._

* * *

 

            The night was filled with macaron making, playing old board games, and doing some homework as well. They ended up watching _The Happiest Days of Your Life_ on Francine’s television. By the end the girl was asleep leaning up against the other’s shoulder. It was late and Miss Natalie was already asleep in her room.

            Alfred had carried Francine up to bed laying her down gently underneath the covers and tucking them up to her chin. He settled down on the side opposite to her giving the two a good foot apart.

            When he opened his eyes in the morning, she was cuddled up against his chest with their legs tangled together.

            It was a pleasant surprise.

* * *

 

            The weeks leading off to finals and finally the summer were creeping upon the two.

            Ivan had left the week before for New York with his siblings. His older sister, Kat, had managed to get a job on Broadway. They had given him the flower pin and their mailing addresses before he had left. Now it was just the two of them.

            Francine kept away the worst of the people who wanted to belittle Alfred while Alfred kept off the vultures who wanted to try and ‘steal his Sophie.’ Francine wasn’t an object to be taken, he had argued countless of times; she was a dame who was to make her own choices.

            She had been sick for three days once to come back to Alfred having a split lip and bruised eyed. There was a blood stain on the front of his jacket, over his heart. She had gotten Miss Natalie to put a little heart patch over the top of it.

            They were a team. One that Francine hoped wouldn’t be broken up.

* * *

 

            After finals there was a dance that the school held for the seniors a week before graduation. It wasn’t ever anything fancy, just something for people to wear semi nice clothes to, dance, and talk. Alfred asked Francine to go with a nervous stutter of his voice.

            She had said yes.

            They had walked hand in hand into the gym where a band was playing on a set up stage. People were talking and laughing while holding bottles of Pepsi and finger food. The couple had enjoyed themselves just fine with Francine wearing her puffed out blouse and blue skirt with frills and bows everywhere and Alfred wearing his jacket, a button up, slacks, and new shoes. They were purple and powder blue.

            A team. A couple.

            They danced the night away Alfred holding Francine in his arms while they swayed spun and rocked back and forth. At one point he had dipped her kissing her nose gently.

            By the time the sun had set they were both walking back to his place where she’d spend the night with him and Madeline. She pulled out her cigarettes handing one over to him. He took it as she lit it up for them both shoving the old lighter back into his pocket.

            “Thought you didn’t smoke doll.”

            “I usually don’t,” was all she commented closing her eyes.

            “What’s on your mind?” he leaned over taking her hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

            “I’m going back to Paris come summer.”

            He blinked.

            “I’d like you to come with me.”

* * *

 

            Francine was all packed to go to the airport and fly back home. Her parents were waiting. Miss Natalie was waiting to say goodbye. Alfred was waiting too. She picked up her last suitcase walking down the main stairs. Alfred stood with his hands in his pockets as he spoke with the head of the house.

            Madeline and his mom could visit whenever they had time of course. And she would be teaching him French once they got over there.

            “Ready to go doll?” he asked with a smile going over to take the suitcase to the car.

            “ _Oui._ ”

            She looked over to Miss Natalie one more time, giving her caretaker a hug. “Keep an eye on his family,” she whispered.

            The woman nodded patting Francine on the back. “Keep an eye on him,” she replied.

            As she drove away from the home she had known since she was only eight, she didn’t feel so bad this time. Not like when she had left her parents so long ago. She had Alfred this time. She had Alfred who in turn had been able to escape the small racist town of too rich people.

            She simply smiled over at him giving his hand a firm squeeze.

            Francine really was happy.

* * *

 

            Some twenty years later in the late 1970’s, in a large home out about two hours by car from Paris, France you could find two people madly in love. One was pale as a sheet with bright blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes. She barely looked like she was older than twenty let alone almost forty. The other however, was a man who had cocoa brown skin and deep brown black hair that was starting to get only a bit of grey on the side. He had wrinkles under his eyes when he smiled and when he did it lit up a whole room.

            She still called him peepers. He still called her doll. They would have movie nights together and yes, she did sleep naked, as he had found out long ago.

            They would dance together in the kitchen when none of the cooks were inside. They would be hand in hand gliding across the floor singing and dancing to _Build Me Up Buttercup_ as they made macarons.

            Macarons and cocoa, they were truly quite the pair. But when they kissed and laughed and danced they felt as though everything was right. So why sweat the small stuff?

            _Come on snake, let’s rattle!_

**Author's Note:**

> !!Any racial slurs or opinions in this story are not my own but the views of the characters in the story. Also sorry if any of the French is wrong. Based off of a picture I saw on Tumblr by the user crapitolist! I hope you don't mind that I wrote this I just thought it was really cute!!


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